


Milk Jugs

by panpinecone



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breast Fucking, Breastfeeding, Cumshot, Hybrids, Lactation, Large Breasts, M/M, Milking, Nipple Play, Roughness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-09 13:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5542046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panpinecone/pseuds/panpinecone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the milking machine broken, Ocelot's going to need some help to get through the day. Cue Kazuhira Miller offering his charitable services.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Milk Jugs

**Author's Note:**

> AU where a rare—but not unheard of—genetic variation causes some humans to be born with animal characteristics.
> 
> Betaing done by the magnificent PamuyaBlucat. (Any remaining mistakes are my own fault for procrastinating.)

This wasn't going to work.

Ocelot had tried—of _course_ he had—but there was simply no getting around the issue: His milking machine was broken, and without a way to relieve himself, his bovine nature ensured a decidedly uncomfortable buildup of milk.

Kaz had taken the news of the broken machine badly when Ocelot had first announced it, but not for the same reasons. After all, Kaz was only ever concerned with the base's overall morale, not any one individual's. What did he care that Ocelot was going to be on edge for the whole day, weighed down by gallons of milk? No, infinitely more important were the inevitably heartbroken Diamond Dogs, sure to be devastated upon noticing the lack of dairy products offered by the mess hall over the coming days.

As the base's sole cow, Ocelot felt his own sense of compassion bubbling up at the soldiers' plight, but it was far from being on par with the discomfort of having his chest bulge with milk. It was bad enough in the mornings, after his body had busied itself producing it through the entire night, but now?

Noon had only just arrived, and Ocelot grimaced at the wetness running down his front.

How was he meant to perform his duties in such a state? His chest was swollen, highly sensitive, and a nightmare to navigate around. Even the slightest annoyances were getting under his skin, and he'd very nearly been spurred into using his measly horns on some bumbling rookie.

The idea of making it through the rest of the day seemed like nothing but a pipe dream.

Huffing in frustration, Ocelot adjusted his scarf over the milk stains on his shirt and made his way to Kaz's office.

"Miller," he called, stepping across the threshold. "We have a problem."

Without glancing up from his paperwork, Kaz said, "If this is about how broken the machine is, then I already know. R&D couldn't fix it, so I went ahead and filled out the paperwork for a new one."

Ocelot reflexively shook his head, floppy ears swinging from side to side. Though he appreciated the assurance that things would soon return to normal, the information did nothing for his present situation. "It's not that. It's... These."

Kaz looked up just in time to see Ocelot give his chest an indicative squeeze, casually cupping each breast through his sodden shirt.

"Oh. Umm..." Momentarily at a loss for words, Kaz leaned back in his chair and set down his pen.

"I can't work like this. There's a _reason_ I use that machine three times a day, you know."

Sighing in annoyance, Kaz gestured in the general direction of Ocelot's problem and agreed, "I'm sure it can't feel great, but I fail to see how complaining about it's going to help."

Ocelot grunted and defiantly placed his hands on his hips. "Come on, Miller. You can't expect me to go around like this until the new machine's ready."

"I can't speed up time, okay?" said Kaz testily, meeting Ocelot's glare with one of his own. "What, you want me to tug on them myself?"

For a moment, Ocelot said nothing, steadfastly maintaining his glare.

Then his expression relaxed and he looked away, mumbling, "Well, you _could_."

"Hm?"

"You could milk me," Ocelot repeated, suddenly self-conscious at having encouraged the facetious suggestion. Perhaps it'd be best to play it off as a joke...

But upon casting his eyes back to Kaz, he was surprised to find genuine consideration adorning his features. As Ocelot watched, the consideration gave way to a stony-faced silence that lasted long enough to set him on edge. Not wanting to seem desperate, though in truth he really was, Ocelot held his tongue and waited.

Just as it was getting to be too much, Kaz spoke up. "Fine," he muttered, standing from his chair and shuffling towards the door. He opened it and left without a backwards look at Ocelot. "You coming?"

Stunned, Ocelot shook himself from his reverie and followed Kaz out, disbelievingly watching as a patrolling soldier was yelled at for a clean bucket.

"And bring it to Ocelot's room!"

"Yes, sir!"

The soldier scurried away as fast as could be managed without looking disrespectful, and Kaz resumed walking, heading for a nearby Jeep and settling into the passenger side. "Well, what are you waiting for? Drive us back to your room," he said, impatient as Ocelot hesitantly climbed in opposite him.

Ocelot wordlessly started the engine, mind running through all the possible things for him to say. It had become clear that Kaz wasn't joking, and though the proposed solution certainly set Ocelot on edge, he wasn't about to offer Kaz a way out; not now that he'd already agreed to it.

His chest was _throbbing_. It was a miracle that he was driving them without veering wildly off-course, too distracted by the pain to pay attention. As luck would have it, Ocelot's acting skills came in handy, and he resolutely ignored how full he was— how ready to burst.

He ignored _all_ of it, even how he'd continued leaking. Taking one heavy breath after another, he maintained his apathy, managing to drive them all the way to the appropriate platform, and finally hopping out of his seat. He spared a few seconds to linger as Kaz extricated himself from the vehicle, then veered straight for his room, refusing to go another minute without getting milked.

As requested, a bucket rested against the door, ready to be filled to the brim with his milk. He snatched it up and winced at the twinge in his chest as he straightened, pushing open the door for Kaz. Moving to sit on the edge of his bed, he set it down on the floor just as Kaz shambled in.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Pull those chairs up," ordered Kaz, jutting his chin at the chairs in question. Knowing better than to raise issue with the bossiness, Ocelot did as he was asked, setting the chairs where Kaz pointed.

"You better change into something more comfortable," Kaz said, setting his cane down. "This is going to take a while."

Ocelot turned away, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off, revealing his glistening torso. He elected to leave his gloves on, but deliberated when it came to his pants. Glancing over at Kaz, who sat in the chair closest to the bed, jacket draped over the back of it, Ocelot tentatively started, "My tail tends to move while I'm getting milked, so—"

"Get naked for all I care. Just hurry up, I want this over with."

Ocelot faltered at Kaz's flippant tone, then took a breath and stepped out of his boots, slipping off his pants in the process. He couldn't help merrily swishing his tail, newly freed and slightly numb from being confined the whole morning. Leaving his underwear on, he finally turned and walked towards Kaz, shooting him an expectant look.

There was a brief moment where Ocelot felt himself being appraised, but then it passed, Kaz instead telling him how to get on the bed and into position. "Now go ahead and lean forward onto that chair... Yes, put your hands down on it. Okay, stop there."

Kaz's foot pushed the bucket directly underneath Ocelot's dripping breasts, the loud echoes of the droplets landing inside it being the first sign that it was properly placed.

Ducking his head down in embarrassment, Ocelot missed how deftly Kaz managed to get his glove off and reach forward. A quick squeeze later, Ocelot gave a shocked yelp at the sudden flare of pain, distractedly hearing the resulting gush of milk into the bucket.

_"Miller!"_

The hand pulled back and so did Kaz, scowling at him. "There's hardly any other way to do it, Ocelot. So unless you'd rather just wait for that new machine, you'd better suck it up and _quit your mooing_."

Ocelot's complaints died in his throat at the insult. Kaz was right.

He _could_ stand to be gentler about the whole thing, but the fact of the matter was that good milkings were always guaranteed to hurt a little, even with the use of Ocelot's preferred machines. Irritating Kaz further was likely to result in him giving up on the whole endeavor altogether, and Ocelot couldn't afford that. He _needed_ to be milked, and he'd rather not start asking random soldiers for assistance.

For all the friction between them, Ocelot trusted Kaz, and so he pursed his lips shut and waited for the milking to resume.

 

* * *

 

Over the next few days, Kaz assumed full-time responsibility as Ocelot's milker in the machine's absence. A routine had been established, and Ocelot found his chest in a state of perpetual pain. Though mostly physical in nature, due to Kaz's inexperienced tugging and squeezing, there was also pain of a deeper caliber.

Whenever Kaz sat in his room, tugging at his breasts while he was on all fours, Ocelot felt like nothing more than a common cow.

A _mooer_.

It was humiliating.

He'd long benefited from privileges rarely afforded to cow-humans. His skill set earned him a modicum of respect within the military, but it hinged on downplaying his cow-human status. Regular milkings kept his chest from ballooning up and leaking everywhere, and hiding his tail was an acceptable inconvenience. He'd never done much in regards to his horns and ears, nor felt the need to.

But now that he was regularly getting milked by hand—and in such a degrading pose, no less—he felt like every bit the mooer that soldiers undoubtedly called him behind his back.

Each one of their sessions saw his breasts systematically mangled, the milk steadily wrenched from them until at last the bucket was full. Ocelot was left with barely enough time to recover before the next session, as the entire ordeal repeated itself multiple times a day.

Ocelot was almost thankful that Snake hadn't come back from his mission yet. Even on the off chance that he agreed to be Ocelot's milker, there was no guarantee that he'd be any gentler than Kaz. And if he was...

Well, Ocelot preferred for Snake to never see him that way.

 

* * *

 

"...Miller?"

"Hm?"

Ocelot raised his eyebrows at Kaz, wondering why he hadn't started milking yet. "You seem distracted."

"Oh," came the reply. Kaz fell silent once more, apparently lost in thought. Ocelot continued staring. "...Oh! Yeah, sorry, I guess I am. It's just that I skipped lunch because of all the paperwork I had to get done today."

Ocelot nodded in understanding, though he was internally screaming at Kaz to hurry up and milk him. Instead, he offered, "Maybe you can go grab a bite after we're done here."

"No, I'm mostly thirsty."

"Then grab a drink."

"Yeah..." Kaz trailed off, still slumped in his chair.

If they continued doing nothing, Ocelot felt that he might very well lose his patience.

"Hey," Kaz spoke up, tone somewhat hesitant. "Would it be alright if I... You know, had a little?"

"A little what?" Ocelot asked, genuinely confused.

"Your milk. Can I have some before we get started?"

Ocelot stared. "From the bucket, you mean?"

"No, straight from the tap."

Ocelot sat back on his heels, stunned at what Kaz was proposing. Drinking from Ocelot? _Suckling_ him? No, there was no shortage of reasons for why he couldn't agree to that, not least of which was the fact that he'd wind up embarrassing himself. How exactly, he had no idea, only that he most assuredly would.

"N- no, how could that even work?"

"Like this," said Kaz, giving him a light push on the shoulder. Gripped by too much anticipation to raise any objections, Ocelot let himself fall back, swollen breasts pooling outwards. Looking out over them, he watched as Kaz got on the bed and crawled close, balancing himself above Ocelot and saying nothing.

All of a sudden, he ducked down and gave one of Ocelot's nipples a quick lick, bringing forth a few drops of milk and making Ocelot let out a pleasured cry. With hardly a moment's pause, Kaz switched to the other, giving it a matching lick before leaning back and settling down on Ocelot's stomach. "How's that?"

Ocelot gave a breathless nod, feeling his tail swishing back and forth between his legs.

"You like it?"

Another nod.

"Then _you_ do it."

"...Huh?"

Kaz grabbed one of Ocelot's hands, guiding it to cup a breast and push it upwards. "Go on, have a taste of yourself."

He couldn't mean...?

But no, it was clear that he did. He meant for Ocelot to suckle himself— _debase_ _himself_ —for Kaz's viewing entertainment.

And like the obedient mooer that he was, Ocelot craned his neck forward and brought his breast near, timidly poking his tongue out for a lick. Strengthening his resolve, he swiped it across the nipple, eyes widening at the sensation. He'd never tasted his own dairy in any of its forms, much less directly from himself. It wasn't particularly strong— mildly sweet, generally creamy, and pleasantly warm. Yet he was curious for more, moving his lips to suckle properly.

It was hardly a minute before Kaz spoke up again. "Try the other one."

Once again, Ocelot's bovine nature ensured his docility, and he immediately switched his suckling from one breast to the next. His tail carried on swishing away, though far less consciously and much more reflexively than before.

"Alright, don't hog it all," Kaz complained, batting at one of Ocelot's ears.

Pulling off, Ocelot relaxed his aching neck muscles and gazed up at Kaz, eyelids heavy with excitement. Awaiting orders, he moaned in pleasure as Kaz squeezed one breast and then the other, milk pouring out and gathering on his chest between them.

Kaz abruptly stopped, staring down at him, and Ocelot could tell that he was getting ideas. As if to prove him right, Kaz licked his lips and asked, "Ocelot... You know I don't care about sex like I used to, right?"

"Right," Ocelot conceded, wondering what Kaz was getting at.

"I still don't. But... Some opportunities in life just can't be passed up."

"Miller, if you're saying what I think you're sayi—"

"Let me titfuck you."

Ocelot's mouth fell open in surprise as Kaz openly groped himself, clearly itching to pull down his zipper and get started. Luckily for him, Ocelot knew the 'try everything once' sentiment all too well, and before he'd given it a second thought, he found himself nodding. Though he'd rather have Snake do the task, he was aroused and agitated enough that he was willing to let Kaz have his way.

With a long-suffering sigh, he growled out, "Not a word of this later."

"Deal," Kaz triumphantly agreed, already scooting back to whip his pants off. Far quicker than Ocelot had been expecting, he succeeded, settling down on the edge of the bed to work off his prosthetic.

For the first time in months, Ocelot felt as if he could see a glimpse of the old Kazuhira Miller— traces of what he must've been like in the old MSF days. So _this_ was how he'd gotten his playboy reputation...

Ready at last, Kaz crawled back to Ocelot and hovered over his chest, half-hard dick hanging low between his breasts. Painstakingly slowly, the dick descended, landing with a soft _splish_ in the small puddle of milk. Transfixed, Ocelot watched Kaz rock back and forth a few times, as if getting a feel for it.

Seemingly satisfied, Kaz's lips quirked up and he gave a new order, ever-confident that Ocelot would unquestioningly follow it. "Okay, now squeeze them together."

Unquestioningly, Ocelot followed it.

Torn between unbridled excitement and the looming dread so often accompanying reckless decisions, Ocelot's hands brought his breasts together around Kaz's dick, encasing it in their plush warmth. Without warning, Kaz began thrusting back and forth, the motion sending milk spouting into the air above Ocelot. Each subsequent thrust brought forth more and more milk, the initial fountain soon giving way to a steady cascade which thoroughly coated both his chest and Kaz's dick.

Angling his face for a good view, Ocelot's eyes curiously followed the head of Kaz's dick as it disappeared and reappeared between his breasts.

Kaz chuckled, gaining Ocelot's attention before he quipped, "Too bad it's not a couple inches longer, then I could get it in your mouth too."

Ocelot glared.

"Ah, right. Cows don't eat meat, huh?"

Ocelot's exasperated groan only prompted Kaz to add, "And now you're mooing!"

"Would you _shut up_ and let me enjoy this!?"

"Oh? You're enjoying it?"

Kaz was outright grinning, making Ocelot realize that he may have said too much. He elected to keep his mouth shut and let the question go unanswered.

"I think you are," murmured Kaz, providing the answer himself. Thrusting harder, he sent milk spraying out again, arousing Ocelot further and wrenching a whimper from him as a smattering of droplets fell on his face.

The sight evidently amused Kaz. He sped up his thrusts and commented, "You've never done this kind of thing before, have you? I can tell." Taking Ocelot's silence as a sign to go on, he mused, "You should. I actually figured you already had, being a mooer and all."

Ocelot bristled at the words, but before he could offer a retort, Kaz's thrusts came to a sudden standstill. Confused, he looked down just in time to see Kaz's dick shoot out a jet of cum aimed directly at him. Ocelot automatically shut his eyes, feeling a rope of cum land across the bridge of his nose, followed by several more on his lips and cheeks, with one managing to land on one of his eyelids. As soon as he was certain that the assault was over, he fluttered open his remaining eye and glowered up at Kaz.

"Some warning would be nice," he hissed out, scowling at the steady drip of cum from his eyelashes.

For the first time in Ocelot's memory, Kaz looked sheepish as he admitted, "It, um, caught me off guard. Hold on, I'll get a towel."

He slid back to the side of the bed, fumbling around for a minute until his prosthetic was securely in place, then stood and headed to where Ocelot pointed, quickly finding a pile of towels. He grabbed one and walked back to Ocelot's side, wiping his face clean for him before handing over the towel and letting him do the rest himself. Ocelot instantly sat up, cleaning his sopping chest and trying to regain some semblance of normality, muttering, "Alright, you had your fun. Help me get the rest of this milk out."

"Sure!" Kaz cheerfully replied, taking off his prosthetic once more. Before Ocelot could ask why, Kaz was pushing him down again and turning him on his side, then lying down beside him.

"What are y— _Ahh_..."

Kaz enthusiastically suckled at one of Ocelot's breasts, pulling forth enough milk to provide instant relief. It was nearly enough to overcome the discomfort that accompanied the insistent vacuum of his mouth, and Ocelot found his fingers threading through Kaz's hair, seemingly of their own volition, with the express intent of keeping him in place.

Ocelot felt Kaz move his hand up to grasp the breast he was drinking from, unleashing yet another burst of milk down his throat. The sight resonated with Ocelot's bovine instincts, every drop of milk Kaz nursed from him replaced by the deep-seated satisfaction of it having been done.

Ocelot clutched Kaz closer and wondered when the new machine would arrive.

**Author's Note:**

> Includes some marvelous art by the brilliant nekkidsnake:  
> [panpinecone.tumblr.com/post/136649297278](http://panpinecone.tumblr.com/post/136649297278)


End file.
